Refilling Your Metrocard

Do you just follow the prompts? Do you watch your reflection? Do you try it in Chinese or Spanish? Or do you contemplate the consequences of putting the $10 refill vs. the "unlimited" option onto your ticket?

As you punch in your zip code to confirm your choice, do you imagine what the next zip code might hold? As you wait for your refilled Metrocard to be spat out of the machine, do you map out low long your next journey might last?

I do.

And not just this morning; not just because these questions might lead to life-changing responses in the near future. Every time I refill my Metrocard, I envision what the trip might bring, where it falls into the schedule of my life and yes - whether it will be my last. (Thanks Dad, for the persistent musings on mortality.) We like to create metaphors about our experiences on this earth and then put them on wheels, tracks and feet. You know them just as well as I do:

"... begins with one step."  |  "It's not about the destination, ..." |  "If you don't know where you're going, how will you ever ..."  |  "The only journey is the one within.”

So now I'd like to share some profound inspiration from the MTA with you,
"Touch Start to Begin."

Missed Her by a Minute

Swiss Bliss, NYCAMS Gallery, photo: Jessica Kohout

In this small burg of  8,175,133 chances and connections, I can't believe I saw her again - the person that chatted with us on the subway platform when we had gotten a Shakespearean-style soaking. She was among the people at an art-opening to which one of my friends had extended an invitation to me. But by the time I got to the opening, the public had cleared out and only the core people were there: the artists and their intimate supporters. She seemed to not recognize me, and I felt a little sheepish approaching her. By then, my friend had ducked out to prepare the dinner for the artists, so I missed her by a minute.

Not saying hello was, in essence, saying good-bye.

Road Trip, along the way

Speaking of pursuing life as a journey, I want to share some things I was thinking/tweeting during the in-between times (and a few photo collages, just for fun) along the recent road trip:

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The view over Jersey, Atlanta, somewhere in between, and southern Minnesota.

29 July 2011, 2245 - Preparing to "take off" tomorrow and hoping that everything is packed. (Note to self: Tweeting is *not packing.*) What shouldn't I forget?

31 July 2011, 0715 - Startin' the day with Jose... (I mean Mr. Valdez.) Sunday mornings with a relaxing, energizing, sun-filled porch to park.

Viridian: Green Giant's still there, the silos in 'Kato along the Blue Earth River, my favorite field along 14
and the purple roads on 68. 

31 July 2011, 0908 - Out on 169 with The Current in my ears an' Drew's eyes on the road.

31 July 2011, 0916 - Thinking about Hopper: eerie crisp sunsurfaces, the silent pathos in City life; one bleaches you out, the other takes your breath away.

The view of my homeland, with home-folks from Hermann Heights, New Ulm.
("Hermann the German" is the second-tallest freestanding copper sculpture. New York's Lady Liberty is first.)

4 Aug 2011, 0024 - Drew's two redbulls in tonite, Metallica's exited light, the sunflower seeds are flying & I'm beating angry birds. America's on the radio.

5 Aug 2011, 1917 - The billboard says TrustAndrew.com.

Lakes, bagels, beers, friends, green everywhere and ... sky.

6 Aug 2011, 1928 - "Racine" the clock.

6 Aug 2011, 2045 - Duskyscrapers & bleak industry. Flat hoods, elevated ways w/o windbreaks. Huxtable isn't here. And Jill says, "Continue 365 miles on I90."

Chicago, Indiana, Ohio, and the night ahead. 

6 Aug 2011, 2131 - Ind he's my dad, Gary. Dark between the white lines without my glasses but Luna's so bright she gives the sky black eyes.

7 Aug 2011, 0017 - Stopped for a Frisco in fog so thick you could butter Bruegger's bagels with it. Dr. Pepper is joining for the ride, Lady Gaga fades in&out.

7 Aug 2011, 0055 - Lights flashing in a multi-colored haze, hot, humid. Volume's so loud I might have blisters. Saturday night Ohio reminds me of Switzerland.

7 Aug 2011, 0129 - Ottawa (original road trip) Cty. Trapp (college classmate) Rd. Fleetwood Mac (sister's tape) remix. Sandusky (gma neighbors) Cty, Ohio is...The Land of Memories. (Or was that Missouri's motto?)

I know you've deceived me, now here's a surprise; I know that you have 'cause there's magic in my eyes.
I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles...

7 Aug 2011, 0633 - Daylight breaking grey, alleghenie rolling. Hills and clouds winding under, over, with each other.

7 Aug 2011, 0730 - That Schneider (thump) is shamokin!

7 Aug 2011, 0924 - 3 gaps: in the clouds, 'twixt the greens and on the radio. Going thru the Garden this morning.

7 Aug 2011, 1000 - Spotted a CT car with license plate "240 ULM" on the BQE. Everything is connected. ;)

7 Aug 2011, 1020 - From 7pm: 6 bathroom breaks, 5 energy drinks, 4 bridges, 3 snackstops, 2 happy kittens and 1 parking spot later, we're home.

Drove fourteen hours straight, he's my hero.

Road Trip

Actual journeys, not just the metaphorical ones, make you really appreciate the connections you get to strengthen from point to point. The in-between lets you reflect on what (or who) you've left and where you're going.

I will be making a copy of this painting, The Jack Pine,
by Tom Thompson, a member of the Group of Seven,
by personal request from friends visited along this road trip. 

My favorite painter from Canada's landscape artists is 

Franklin Carmichael. He might have even grown up near
the place from which my grandfather hailed from in Canada. 

Perhaps we're related? 

10 years ago, I and my (then, boy-)
friend went on a big road trip to Canada, an art-pilgrimage to see the Gustav Klimt retrospective at the National Gallery of Canada. We entered into the trip (well, to tell the truth, I entered into the trip) with reservations. Not to a hotel, but about our relationship. As we traveled together, we learned valuable things about each other and truth be told again, that trip solidified my commitment to the person who became my husband.

One of the lessons learned was the palpable difference between pursuing life as a "destination" or a "journey." I was so eager to get TO my end goal that I was missing, and even deliberately trying to ignore, the adventure with him along the way. He taught me to be aware of the nuances in landscapes and the relationships between places... and people. To allow and be open to revelatory surprises when you least expect them. And while I was so keen to see just one person on the journey, I was introduced to a new group of artists that have made my visual life more vibrant.

So with this recent trip to pick up our new-to-us vehicle, I am now looking forward to driving into uncharted territory: artistically, socially, and personally.